Chapter 307: I’m Going to Trust You and Take this Bet. (1)
“A bet, huh… That sounds interesting,” Claude said, suddenly pausing to flash a relaxed smile.
Ghislain pressed him again.
“Are you in or not?”
“Of course… I can’t pass up a chance like this. After all, the blood of a gambler runs through my veins.”
“But do you even have anything to wager? I’m not taking the rest of your life.”
“I figured as much,” Claude replied with a faint smile.
Although no one else knew, Claude didn’t have any life left to bet anyway. Over the years, he had lost numerous wagers, big and small, that required him to gamble away portions of his lifespan. Now, the length of time he owed as a slave had ballooned to a staggering 278 years.
There was even a time he lost ten years over something as trivial as a speed-drinking contest. It was the natural outcome of taking every opportunity to gamble.
Claude was fully aware that his remaining life was worth less than the flour sacks rolling around the estate.
So, he decided to offer something else.
“What about Alfoi and the mages?” he proposed with a chuckle.
The mages were bound by their contracts from long ago. Although they had taken up gambling recently, they had never wagered against Ghislain.
In essence, Claude was suggesting putting the mages’ lives on the line instead of his own.
Ghislain nodded easily.
“The mages are fine. Thanks to their mana, they’ve got long lifespans. With enough skill, they’ll live even longer as their circle level rises.”
“Ah, but that’s not all,” Claude added with a sly grin.
“There’s more?”
“Of course. There are some people leaving soon, aren’t there?”
“Oh… Are you saying you can bring them in?”
“I’ll persuade them to join the wager.”
“Alright. Those folks are pretty decent too. So, what do you want? You must have something big in mind if you’re going this far.”
Claude squirmed theatrically before speaking.
“Ugh, can I even say this out loud?”
“Just spill it. What do you want?”
“First of all, it’s a given that you’ll free me, right? Erase all 278 years at once.”
“I can do that much. Is that all? Do you want to go back to your hometown as a free man?”
“No, no. I want an estate. I want to become a lord.”
“Pfft!”
“…….”
Clearing his throat to stifle his laughter, Ghislain asked mockingly,
“So, just a plot of land, then?”
Annoyed by his reaction, Claude replied, “Not from you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know when you’ll get me killed.”
It was an unavoidable truth that conflict with the Ducal family loomed in the future. If Claude accepted land from Ghislain, he’d be bound to serve as a vassal in the war. Even if he avoided the fighting, the Ducal family would kill him anyway if they won, simply for being on Ghislain’s side.
Ghislain tilted his head in curiosity.
“Then how do you expect to get the land? Do I have to seize it for you?”
“Just buy me a small plot in the Turian Kingdom. It doesn’t have to be big, haha.”
“The Turian Kingdom?”
“You’re a noble of Ritania backed by the Turian Kingdom, aren’t you? As my sponsor, you can purchase a small piece of land for me. Oh, and make sure it’s as far away from the Shadow Mountains as possible. I’d like to live safely.”
It was entirely possible to buy and sell land as long as the agreement was made with the current lord and adhered to the laws of the respective country.
Claude had no intention of simply taking money and returning to his hometown. He had tasted the allure of power. No amount of money could replace the value of authority.
His plan was to live the rest of his life in comfort, ruling over a small estate.
He wasn’t greedy. Unlike Ghislain, he had no interest in war or expanding territory. He just wanted a carefree life until the day he died.
After mulling it over, Ghislain nodded in agreement.
“Alright. If you win, I’ll secure you a small estate in the Turian Kingdom. Not that it’ll ever come to that.”
“Hehehe, just don’t go back on your word later. Let’s set the time-frame to a month. The wager is to maintain combat-ready fitness after a month of eating only the newly developed supplies.”
“Of course. Now go gather the people to stake their lives.”
“Understood. Just give me a little time. I’ll persuade them to join the wager.”
Claude practically skipped away, his face alight with glee. While he had nothing of his own to bet, he was more than happy to stake the lives of others.
The thought of reaping rewards without losing anything of his own filled his steps with a spring. He was already dreaming of leaving this place with a hefty prize.
Watching Claude’s excited figure disappearing in the distance, Ghislain let out a quiet chuckle.
“Lifetime slave mages… I can’t resist this one.”
It was an offer too amusing to pass up.
—
Alfoi was gambling in a corner of the estate’s construction site. His opponent, surprisingly, was none other than Piote, rumored to be the kindest person in the estate.
In truth, Piote didn’t enjoy gambling. Most of the money he earned on the estate was spent helping struggling estate residents.
While the estate’s distribution of food meant there were few starving individuals, sustenance alone wasn’t enough for a fulfilling life.
There were still people who couldn’t afford basic necessities or access medicinal herbs when they were sick. Piote used his personal funds to assist such individuals.
However, the money Piote earned wasn’t nearly enough to help everyone in need on the estate. As a result, he sometimes sought assistance from others.
Alfoi was no exception to this.
“What? You’re asking me to donate? You want to snatch money from the fiery Alfoi himself?”
“No… I’m not snatching it. I’m just asking if you could spare a little to help the less fortunate on the estate…”
“I’m the one who’s struggling the most! Don’t you see? I’m living as an unpaid slave despite being the heir to a magic tower!”
Alfoi flared up in indignation. But everyone knew the truth Alfoi had been quietly accumulating money.
He earned small amounts by helping with estate tasks in exchange for payment or by gambling and winning money from others.
Even so, when he put up this kind of resistance, there was little Piote could do. Donations had to come from voluntary goodwill, not coercion.
“Alright, I understand. I’ll ask someone else,” Piote said, looking dejected as he turned to leave.
But Alfoi stopped him.
“It’s not like there’s no way.”
“What way?”
“It’s just… I need a reason. You know, a justification for giving money.”
Piote tilted his head in confusion, his wide eyes filled with curiosity. Why would helping those in need require justification?
Adopting a serious expression, Alfoi continued,
“Mages don’t give away money for nothing. We’re rational and logical intellectuals, after all. So, I’ll give you a chance to take my money.”
“How?”
“Through gambling, of course. Win it from me fair and square.”
Piote immediately shook his head.
“The scriptures don’t explicitly forbid gambling, but its roots lie in greed, so it’s considered a sin.”
“…You’ve still got a lot to learn,” Alfoi said with a sigh.
“Learn what?”
“You’re not gambling out of greed for money, are you? You’re doing it to help those in need, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Then it’s not greed; it’s a noble endeavor. You’re trying to help people in difficult situations. Isn’t ignoring such an opportunity to help a greater sin?”
“….”
It didn’t entirely make sense, but it sounded convincing enough.
After a moment’s hesitation, Piote clenched his small fists and nodded firmly.
“Alright, I’ll give it a try.”
The method didn’t seem to matter as long as the intention was pure.
Seeing Piote agree, Alfoi smirked slyly.
“Good choice. Since you’re new to this, let’s keep it simple: odd or even. All you have to do is guess whether the number of silver coins in my hand is odd or even. Easy, right?”
“Yes.”
Piote nodded obediently, but the other gamblers watching nearby shook their heads.
Odd or even was a game where Piote had no chance of winning.
Even Kane and the other mages, who regularly gambled, avoided playing odd or even with Alfoi. He was unquestionably the estate’s champion at that game.
Unaware of this, Piote wore an innocent expression as he began the game with Alfoi.
Seeing the small pile of coins Piote had scraped together, Alfoi clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, look at how little he has. The lord probably gives him a fair amount, but he must’ve shared it all with those truly in need. If he loses it all, that pretty face of his will be streaming with tears.”
Piote’s funds were a meager few silver coins and some copper ones.
But Alfoi, the fiery gambler, never held back just because his opponent looked pitiful.
Timid as ever, Piote wagered only one coin at a time.
“Odd!”
“Even!”
“Odd!”
“Even!”
Piote kept trying, but he didn’t win even once.
And for good reason: Alfoi was using magic to cheat.
‘Heh, no one on this estate can break the magic I developed,’ Alfoi thought smugly, confident in his scheme.
Alfoi, who had been introduced to gambling by Claude, had now become an outstanding gambler.
To win at odd-or-even games, he had tirelessly researched and developed a particular spell.
It was a foolproof magic that utilized a combination of teleportation magic, weight reduction magic, and gravity magic. While it was more of a patchwork of existing spells, it was still a new creation.
Whenever he played odd-or-even, he secretly imbued this magic into a small object he held in his hand.
‘Ever since I created this magic, I haven’t lost a single game of odd-or-even. Soon, I’ll even challenge the lord again!’
If the opponent guessed correctly, all Alfoi had to do was slightly open his hand before flicking his wrist, causing the coin to instantly vanish into his sleeve. The speed was almost akin to teleportation.
Because of this magic, Alfoi always wore long-sleeved robes, even in summer.
Unaware of this trickery, Piote had no choice but to keep falling victim to him.
“W-why can’t I win even once?”
No matter how many times he guessed the same outcome, he didn’t win a single round. It was beyond comprehension.
Standing nearby, Kane clicked his tongue before casually revealing the truth.
“That bastard’s using magic to cheat. You’re never going to win.”
“Ch-cheating?! Give me back my money!”
Alfoi immediately raised his voice in protest.
“What?! Cheating? What nonsense! Where’s your proof? I never cheat! And how can you, a priest, not trust people like that? Huh? Is it okay for a priest to accuse people so recklessly?”
“N-no… It’s just that this doesn’t make any sense…”
“What doesn’t make sense? It’s just because you’re bad at it! Did anyone put a knife to your throat to make you lose?”
Alfoi’s indignant rant left Piote at a loss for words. He had no means of exposing Alfoi’s trickery.
“I… I’ll stop.”
He couldn’t afford to lose the little money he had left. However, Alfoi sneered in response, his expression filled with disdain.
“Giving up so easily, do you call yourself a man? Are you not going to help those in need? You seem pretty spineless. Is that the will of your goddess?”
At those words, Piote flared up. He was already ridiculed for being effeminate, and now he had lost money and was being insulted on top of it.
Backing out now felt even more humiliating. With the little money he had left, helping others seemed impossible. He desperately wanted to win something back.
“Let’s play again!”
‘Heh, that’s how people fall into the gambling trap.’
Alfoi smirked.
‘Got myself another sucker.’
He was determined to completely fleece Piote. It wasn’t much money, but it was still something and the entertainment of venting his stress was a bonus.
“Odd!”
“Even!”
“Odd!”
Piote lost every single round. Not once did he win. Alfoi didn’t even bother pretending to play fair; he blatantly cheated.
“Ugh… Ugh…”
As Piote’s remaining money dwindled to almost nothing, his eyes welled up with tears.
He felt humiliated. It was infuriating to suspect cheating but be unable to prove it. And he felt pathetic for not realizing it sooner.
He should have spent the little money he had on helping others instead.
Now he understood why people warned against gambling. Piote regretted his choices deeply.
‘Goddess…’
All he had left was a single silver coin. Piote closed his eyes tightly and prayed.
‘Please, let me win.’
It wasn’t for himself. It wasn’t even to punish the cheater. He simply wanted to help those in need, even if just a little.
Alfoi watched Piote’s pitiful form praying with his eyes shut and said flatly,
“Hey, hurry up and make your bet.”
‘Goddess… Please… Smite that bastard… Ah, I mean, sorry for the harsh words.’
Piote prayed with all his might. He couldn’t remember ever praying this earnestly before.
Regret for his own mistakes, repentance for dabbling in gambling, and a burning desire to help others all of it intertwined and ignited his heart.
And then—
Whoosh!
A radiant surge of divine power erupted from Piote’s body as he fell into a state of fervent devotion. Alfoi, noticing this, chuckled dismissively.
“No matter how much you pray, it’s pointless. Do you know why?”
Alfoi began to exude mana to counter the divine power emanating from Piote.
Boom!
The clash of divine power and mana caused a powerful wave to ripple through the air. Alfoi, wearing a cocky grin, raised his head confidently.
“I am the god of odd-or-even. Even the goddess herself can’t beat me.”
Mocking a priest’s deity and proclaiming himself as a god such audacity was something only a dark mage might dare.
Yet Piote did not respond with anger. He simply continued to pray with pure and earnest conviction.
That unwavering sincerity began to transform into an immaculate faith.
The fervent belief resonated with “something”.
“Hey, aren’t you going to bet already… Huh?”
Guoooonngg!
Suddenly, dark clouds rolled in, dimming the once-clear sky. A brilliant beam of light seemed to burst from Piote’s crown, shooting toward the heavens.
Fwoooosh!
The dark clouds split apart, revealing a dazzling light that shone down upon Piote as if connecting him to it.
Alfoi and the other mages gaped in shock.
They had read about such phenomena in ancient texts.
“Ch-channeling?”
It was an ability granted only to holy maidens chosen by the goddess.
Channeling allowed one to connect to the goddess’s will, draw upon her power, and receive divine guidance. A true “revelation,” unlike the fabricated rumors spread by Ghislain and Porisco.
Even for a holy maiden, channeling was an exceedingly rare occurrence. And yet, it was happening here and now.
Whooooom!
Piote’s body slowly rose into the air as waves of immense divine power radiated from him. His pink hair began to glow, transforming into a resplendent silver.
Watching this, Alfoi stammered in disbelief.
“W-why… why is a god… getting involved in odd-or-even?!”
Once again, it was clear this territory was anything but normal.